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RPlog:It's Just a Flesh Wound
---- Orlop Deck - ICC Dauntless The lowest deck in the Dauntless, the orlop deck, is home to the ship's stores and magazine at the fore, as well as the surgeon's cockpit and berths for the surgeon's mates to the aft. Because of its proximity to the docking racks on the ship's keel, the surgeon's cockpit is intentionally one of the first compartments one passes as one arrives from the airlocks to the shuttlecraft. The walls of this deck are slightly damp due to condensation from the ship's atmosphere processor, and are painted blue to calm the injured. The commissary is also here, located at the entrance to the Dauntless' stores, where the purser's mates can keep a close eye on the state of her supplies. >-=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- OneBee Medical Droid <68-1BK> Attached to a wall, a videocomm unit showing the blue Imperial Sigil spinning on the screen, the symbol of the Emperor's direct authority, or that of ISB or B of O, begins to emit a soft chirp indicating a communication waiting. Seated in his office chair and scanning through a datapad's worth of information regarding several different NRI 'cells' suspected of launching the attack, as well as known information on terrorist or even criminal groups large enough to be able to mount an attack on the Imperial City, it isn't long before Bogumil hears the chirping. After setting down the datapad, he stands and walks over to the comm unit, clicking it on and offering a greeting even as the image clicks on. "Hail Empire," he says, wearily. The image feed shows Senior Agent Lanil Jast confined to an infirmary bed, and also apparently his left leg has taken some considerable damage above the knee. "Mr. Bogumil, forgive me for not meeting you in person, but as you can see I am a bit indisposed right now. Anyways, as you were the one in charge of the security for the event at which this cowardly Rebel attack took place, regulations require that I attempt to find out why the securty failed. Now it could very well be a mole, and as such, I would appreciate it if you would send any relevant findings to me." Bogumil blinks, clearly confused by the manner in which he's being addressed. Naturally, this would make perfect sense if he was still part of the Imperial Army, but now everything has changed. At the very least, however, it seems to him that the ISB is as clueless as to the workings of the Bureau as ever. "Naturally, we appreciate the concern, Mr. Jast, but you're well aware of the classified nature of this information. I'm afraid that at the moment, it's impossible to divulge any information to you whatsoever, though I can safely say that the Bureau has no leaks, and never will." Lanil snorts through his nose, dismissing the insult, "Mr. Bogumil, I was in the Bureau at one time myself, and your obvious diversion tactic connected with an insult as to my loyalty is not appreciated. As this is both an internal AND external affair, I feel that we both have equal authority in this investigation...or do I need to press the issue further up the chain of command?" Although Bogumil doesn't blink again, it's clear from his expression that he's not entirely happy with the new line the conversation is taking. Normally, he'd at least keep up the illusion of pleasantness when speaking to a representative of the ISB, but the fact that Lanil is now attempting to politicize the incident is just too much for the Agent to handle without looking annoyed. "You're aware that both the Bureau and the ISB cover internal and external affairs seperately, right? By all means go up the chain of command, Mr. Jast, because as it stands you have no authority to view classified files held by the Bureau." Lanil mumbles for a moment before continuing, "Very well then. What about the internal information, I take it I am privy to that? Or is that classified from me as well?" Bogumil nods, his features relaxing as Lanil seems to come to terms with his role. Or at least, this is what the agent theorizes, and can only hope that it is the truth, before things move in any unpleasant directions. "That's right. You seem to be forgetting that you're no longer part of the Bureau, it seems. Even if you were a more.. ranking member of the ISB, this information is not just available without consultation with one of the Directors, or a direct intervention from the powers that be." Lanil nods, "Very well Mr. Bogumil. Rest assured I will be in touch. For the Empire." The commchannel then goes silent. "For the New Order," Bogumil replies, before moving back to what he believes to be more important issues at hand. The Dauntless Infirmary. A more of an afterthought out of necessity. Right now, aside from the normal grouping of medical droids and nurses, is Senior Agent Lanil Jast of the ISB, confined to a medical bed, and clothed in an Imperial medical jumpsuit; his dress uniform lies neatly and carefully folded in a nearby chair. It would also appear that his left leg has been bandaged and stitched up. Mr. Jast is currently in a videocomm session on the nearby viewer. Lanil nods, "Very well Mr. Bogumil. Rest assured I will be in touch. For the Empire." The commchannel then goes silent, and Lanil is left to himself again. Standing in the doorway of the Medical Bay is Lieutenant Maris Becton; her eyes looking over at the man, watching him discuss his business on the holovid. Once he's finished, she raises her hand up to the metal frame of the doorway and raps lightly on it before speaking up in a quiet tone, "Excuse me. Mr. Jast? May I enter?" Lanil waves a hand, "By all means Lieutenant, I could use some more welcoming company. Mr. Bogumil and I aren't on the best terms, and the droids and nurses are too single-minded." Offering a slight smile, the woman makes her way into the all-too familiar medical bay and over to the man's bed. Her lips purse and twitch eversoslightly as she tries to think of what to say. Or, better yet, how to say what the one thing on her mind is. Finally, she decides to go the more "friendly" route. "Ummm, how are you feeling?", she asks a bit nervously and awkwardly. Lanil chuckles, "Y'know what they say about the body going into shock when it's hurt?" His sense of humor falls away, "Well they're wrong! It burns like no tomorrow when you get shot!! But, aside from the fact that my leg is basically shot, no pun intended, and I don't know what happened to the Admiral or Lynae, I'm doing pretty well." Nodding slowly, Maris agrees, "Yes, it does." Her eyes leave the man's face to slowly move down to where his leg should be and frowns a bit. She's about to ask him something when he mentions Lynae. Quickly, her head and eyes snap back to his face as she speaks in a worried, rushed tone, "Lynae?? What about Lynae??" Admiral, shmadmiral she only cares about her sister. Lanil shrugs, seeming to forget Danik just as easily, as ironic as that may seem. "I don't know. We came to the party together, sat through Danik's speech, and then on the way up to speak with him, that's when the attack came. I was thrown a ways, as was Danik. Lynae..." he pauses, sighing. She must mean a lot to him, "...I, I just don't know. I went to defend the Grand Admiral, as she would have wanted me, and in the process I got shot and subsequently lost consciousness. So again, I don't know, and it's driving me just as mad as you, it would seem." Maris frowns as she listens to Lanil's tale of what happened that evening, her brows furrowing heavily as her thoughts turn to Lynae. Nodding very slowly, she looks to the man and offers him an encouraging smile before stating, "I'm sure she's just fine. She's one tough cookie, you know." Her head tilts to the side a bit as she gives him a curious glance and asks, "You care a great deal for her, don't you?" The old man smiles, averting his eyes, a bit embarassed, "I guess it's not that hard to miss. Like I told her, I've felt something for years, but with all the stuff recently, it's just brought everything to a spearhead. And what with Roj being away on his long-term assignment, stuff's really been confusing." Shaking her head, Maris gently places her hand on his forearm and quietly says, "Tis nothing to be ashamed of and I wish you luck with her. I hope she gives you a chance. I've never been overly fond of her husband." A pause as now a door has been opened so she gently decides to step through it, "Speaking of being away ...." Her voice trails off as she slides her hand off his forearm and pauses before continuing, "Do you know anything about Trent?" Lanil shrugs, "Captain Trent Ceska? No, I can't say I've heard from him recently. I take it he's on remote assignment as well. And I also take it that you have feelings for him?" He laughs, "What is it with your family and us ISB people?" A quick flush rushes to the woman's cheeks when he speaks of her liking of his Captain and then clears her throat before responding, "Lynae is my best friend, my soul sister. We are not blood related. But, I do consider her family even though she technically is not." Changing the subject, she asks, "Is there anything that I can get for you? Anything that I can do for you?" Lanil pauses for a moment, thinking, "Well one thing that leaps to mind is try to find out what happened to Lynae; I refuse to believe that she is dead, for even given the conditions it seems unlikely, and she would never let something like that happen to herself anyways. So if you could, find her." Nodding some, Maris assures the man, "I /will/ find her, I promise you. And the moment I know the situation, I'll make sure you're informed one way or another." She pauses momentarily to close her eyes and be still. Then, she reopens them and looks down to him, "She's still alive. Rest assured on that." Lanil smiles, and squeezes Maris's hand for a moment, "Thank you, Lieutenant. The Captain's trust in you is not ill-placed." Chuckling softly, she says, "I'd hope not." She gives him a soft smile and says, "I should go start my investigation of her. Is there anything else I can do for you in the meantime?" Lanil shakes his head, "Well if you see the Grand Admiral, please inform him that I would like to speak with him if he can find the time, but other than that, no thank you." Taking off the surgical cap and crumpling it in one hand, Lynae stands at the end of the biobed on which Lanil is sleeping, having been sedated for the duration of the next set of repair work. She scans the biomedical chart with slightly narrowed eyes, reviewing his current stats and biosigns before replacing the chart in its holder at the end of the bed. The quiet whirring and beeping of monitoring equipment creates the quiet background that Lynae moves in and around, the sound that she lives and breathes in for the majority of her life. Resting one hand on Lanil's shoulder she stands there for a brief moment before taking a chair at the side of his bed. Lanil flutters his eyes for a second, then comes to, "Admiral?...Lyn...? Wha....What happen---ow!!" He winces as his left leg moves slightly, and he realizes that the blast must have done more damage than he thought. Looking around, he spots Lynae, "Lyn, what happened? Last thing I remember is the explosion and my getting shot trying to protect the Admiral." Crumpling the surgical cap into a wrinkled mess in her left hand, Lynae lifts her head slightly and meets Lanil's gaze with her own. "Which question would you like answered first?" she responds quietly, her tone of voice calmly measured as she speaks. "In reverse order, perhaps?" she inquires, one eyebrow arching ever so slightly as she speaks. "And stop thrashing around, you'll tear open all those stitches," she adds, placing her free hand on Lanil's shoulder again and giving him a warning look. "You got hit by one of those blaster bolts being shot by those two deranged madmen attempting to kill the Admiral. Skipping ahead a bit, the Admiral is fine. A minor scalp wound, it bled a lot, but he's fine. The terrorists are dead. That big armored body guard of the Admiral's actually proved useful. I'm moderately impressed," she mutters. Blinking a few times as she organizes her thought, describing the blaster wound and what was necessary to repair it before leading into the post-wound treatment. "In all likelihood you're going to have some serious scar tissue. Now, I can prevent infection and further damage with careful observation, but you'll need physical therapy or you'll have a limp for the rest of your life. And a scar that's going to show next time you decide to show the youngens how to swim while carrying a full combat backpack." Lanil chuckles, nodding, "Aye, that may draw some eyes at the pool, but if they're on their toes they won't eyeball me to begin with, now will they?" He pauses, perhaps coming to terms with his injury, then continues, "So, now that I know the Admiral is fine, how are you my dear? When that explosion went off, and I didn't see you anywhere, my world basically stopped, I kid you not." "Me?" Lynae asks in return, a quizzical look on her face before she shakes her head slowly, "I wasn't in any appreciable danger, Lanil. No more than normal, that is. I wasn't the target of the blaster shots being fired, and my every instinct was to get to the Admiral and provide further shielding for him, if possible." She smiles faintly, a look of chagrin on her face, "I didn't occur to me, w hen I was dressing for this fete, that wearing body armor would've been a good move." Lanil chuckles, "Perhaps I should have been more perceptive when you mentioned something about a security risk with all the uniforms about. I TOLD you you should have worn the dress." Lynae levels a long look at Lanil and responds in a low tone, "Absolutely not. Completely inappropriate. Plus," she adds, still glowering at Lanil, "there is absolutely no way I could've worn body armor under a dress. The art of concealed carry is a difficult one, in the best of situations. You cannot wear a thigh holster without earning a raw chafing blister the next day. An ankle holster makes you walk like a duck with a diaper on. And forget about getting a knife of any kind without flashing the entire room. No way, in the name of all that is logical in this universe, would I wear a gown to such an event when the majority of the higher ranking officers of the current task force are all in one room. Talk about a big, huge, shoot me now target!" Lanil nods, "You're right, as always. If I were an operative, I would wonder about the dress amid the sea of uniforms myself." He pauses, seeming a bit hesitant to speak, "Lyn, I'm not wanting to upset you, but I have some rather...disturbing news." Lynae tilts her head slightly and surveys Lanil with a long, quizzical, look. "What sort of disturbing news?" she asks quietly, one hand absently smoothing down her hair where it was covered by the surgical cap. "And I'm just not a dress sort of woman, Lanil. I'm not comfortable in one." Lanil sighs for a moment, then speaks, "Well they're just rumors at the moment, but I've heard some reports that Yoseph is MIA and presumed dead, some even indicate he /IS/ KIA. Again, they're just rumors at the moment, but still I thought you'd like to know." Lynae stiffens noticably, her hands clasping together in her lap and her breath escaping her in a silent hiss of sound. She barely blinks, her face turning even more pale, her lips barely moving as she forces out the words, "Where did you pick up these rumors?" Lanil looks at Lynae with a completly serious expression on his face, "Lyn, I am ISB, and former Bureau of Operations, I have my contacts." "He is not dead," Lynae responds in an emotionless voice. "I would know." Her gaze remains riveted on Lanil's as she speaks. "I would know, Lanil. He is just taking some personal time. He's not MIA." Even as she says the words, it's evident that she's trying to persuade Lanil as much as she's trying to believe it herself. Lanil throws up his hands, "Fair enough; Anyways like I said, they're just rumors." "Rumors they are, aye," Lynae says softly, bending a bit and not looking quite as shaken. "But certainly you can weight the validity of these sources. I should," she pauses, biting her lower lip, an old and mostly unused habit, "I should talk to the Admiral." Lanil reaches out, touching Lyn's forearm, "We both should talk to him. Besides, I have some other issues to bring to his attention." He smiles, continuing, "Roj is my friend too, Lyn, and it's gonna take more than my realization of my feelings for you to cause me to turn my back on him." "Ahh, yes. We should, at that. After the Selene Days celebration," Lynae adds though, shaking her head slowly and trying to organize her thoughts. "Until I have proof to the contrary, I must believe that he is taking personal time, Lanil. I have to believe that. Because anything else is to believe that he's left the Empire. And me, " she breathes quietly, "and I'm not ready for that." Lanil nods, "None of us are. Reneging on his vows to you would be bad enough, but the Empire too? That would be one investigation I would hate to be forced to carry out...and this from the man who turned in his own mother for disloyalty." "In some ways he's not quite cut out for this life, you know," Lynae quietly replies. "His sense of personal honor creeps up on him and makes him question the way of things. He should have been some sort of knight of old, Lanil. Rescuing damsels in distress. Fighting the big bad monster of the village." Lanil nods, "As bureacratic as it was, and mind you I lived under it for most of my childhood, Yoseph would have been the perfect fit in the Old Republic...especially the Old Republic of millenia ago." "He's a classic archetype," Lynae says with a bit of disgruntlement in her tone of voice. "Forever trying to find ways to make me .. softer. Nicer. Two words that will never describe my wardrobe: Pink and frilly. And the man is forever determined to keep me from getting my hands bloody. For the love of what's logical in this universe, I'm not a flower gathering dander headed maiden! I'm a soldier. An officer. A doctor, scientist, and a damned efficient executioner when required. He should've picked some soft civilian to wed if that's what he needs to do to feel like a man." Lynae exhales loudly, her expression briefly startled as she lets that just slip out in frustration. Lanil chuckles, "That only begs the question of why did he choose you in the first place? Did he see something in you?" Lynae gives Lanil one of those long looks again, "Which only begs the question, what do You see?" Lanil shrugs, "I see who you are as you, whatever that is, and whatever it may become." Nodding slowly in reply, Lynae rubs her hands together, massaging the stiff knuckles as she speaks, "That's something that Yose may never simply see." She rises then, resting a hand on Lanil's shoulder, "Now, go back to sleep. I'll be here, keeping an eye on you. And don't you -ever- do that again," she admonishes in a low voice. "Seeing you all seeping blood absolutely infuriated me. Don't do that again!" Lanil closes his eyes and tries to go to sleep, "Wy doctor, is that affection I sense?" Lynae makes a smothered sound of laughter, "We'll see."